Your erotic stories

Andrea and I had had a thing, four or five years ago, way back when we still worked together. It had only lasted about a week, but it had been a quite memorable week (at least for me it sure was!), and we had managed to stay good friends after. We'd gone on to pursue different careers, and Andrea had become a dedicated, full-time lesbian, and occasionally we'd even dated the same girls (though never at the same time).

read more

My first truly erotic encounter set a high standard for all that followed. I was eighteen years old, fresh-faced and pretty, if a little naive. I was ready to experience new things and break out of high school awkwardness. This was partly the reason why I quickly made my peace with having to share a bedroom with a stranger assigned by the college.

read more

Heather and Jack had invited us over to their place for dinner. The Wilsons were a bit younger than Laurie and I, but we were close enough in age that it wasn't a big deal. We'd never asked, but I'd guess both Heather and Jack were in their mid 30's. The four of us had met through mutual friends and soon became friends ourselves, taking in some movies and attending quite a few parties together.

read more

"OK, what the hell is that?" Eileen asked laughing. "That is our Play Chair," the saleswoman said with a smile, coming up behind them. "It tends to get a reaction from everyone that comes in here." 'Here' was an upscale 'erotic boutique' in Boston. Eileen and Tom were in town for a get-away weekend and decided a visit would provide a nice bit of spice to their romantic weekend. Neither had been to the store before and didn't quite know what to expect.

read more

I wrote this as a love story, not a quick thrill. I have taken certain liberties with names and locations, because, it was told to me, by a very close friend. So read it if you enjoy a short story not necessarily one with sex and orgasms every five lines. Willy was a cop, daughter of a cop, a sister to cops and cousin to many cops. A few months before her thirty-sixth birthday, she was slim, standing five foot nine with the wide shoulders, flattish chest, and slim hips with the incredibly powerful thighs of a swimmer.

read more

Skylar McGill was an attractive girl. She was just 19 years old, around 5 foot 5 and just the right balance between slim and curvy, with tanned skin, grey-green eyes and dark brown hair to her shoulders, she was nothing special but certainly not ugly. However, that morning, after crying all night, she definitely did not look her best. Looking in the mirror, she sighed, wondering when it would be over. Her friend Magdalena was playing mind games with her again.

read more

It wasn't easy being a young professor at a southern university in the US. When I say young, I mean young. I was always an overachiever, and got my Ph.D at 22 and began teaching immediately. This meant that I was barely older than my students at best. This had the potential for becoming an outright, unmitigated disaster, and everyone knew it. The Director of my program never came out and said anything to me directly, but it was clear he was keeping a close eye on me.

read more

It was my senior year playing women's basketball at a State College. My name is Lindy Clarke and I was one of the starting five. We were a good team, but a little short to excel in the conference playoff tournament--just suburban girls having a good time. We all could dribble, and pass and play defense, but we were outmatched in spite of our athleticism and good coaching.

read more

'Josie ... Come in, come in ... I'm so glad you could help me out like this.' Mistress Megan held open the door to her apartment, and as I walked in, I felt the normal jumble of emotions rise up and threaten to overwhelm me. I had received a text message from her at 4.30, while I was sitting rather bored in a meeting at the bank where I work. I was helping on a presentation to a group of fund managers who all thought they were rather clever and wonderful, but unfortunately, I didn't.

read more

Becky was sitting on the edge of the dresser with her arms folded in front and a scowl on her face. "I don't understand why you won't go. You love Buckingham's Ale House. She said in a pleading tone. "I'm just not up for it, that's all, I'm...ah, little under the weather." I said very weakly. Buckingham's represented an old way of life that no longer existed for me.

read more